Time For Another Son
by YogaForever
Summary: He looked so troubled, so disturbed-like his eyes were filled with just so much pain. And then there was the overwhelming confusion that kept flashing in his eyes each time she said or did anything kind to him. What,was kindness really so strange to him?


Before-hand Author's Note time!: Hey-hey, people's of the good FFnet. Well, another Scourge story. My other two Scourge fics got REALLY good reviews, so I'm really stressed about posting this. Don't tell me Scourge is an old hat! I know he is! But, Cooro made me do it (my best friend, le gaspe)! She says she really likes this story, and she'll beat you up if you don't like it, too! ^-^;;

So just enjoy . . .

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**Time For Another Son**

_By: Sweet Valentine Vampire_

Who did that old man think he was? All those frikkin' words . . .

Scourge was sure of this, Sonic's father was a lot braver man - a lot more dedicated to his family - than his own father could ever hope to be. The evergreen hedgehog grit his teeth together and glared in the high-noon sun. It pissed him off so badly to have such a wonderful person as his father's parallel self.

That's when he began to wonder what Sonic's mother must be like . . .

He felt like breaking something, screaming or maybe breaking down into tears at the thought that she probably loved Sonic like nothing else. Sonic was probably his mother's world.

His teeth gnashed together as he fought the urge to scream at any unlucky passerby. Admittedly, it was kinda stupid to be walking around the New Mobotropolis suburbs so early in the day because someone could attempt to capture him.

But he had planned this . . . ! All the Freedom Fighters, in their young age and all, would be in school at this hour.

"Ha," Scourge laughed to himself, his evil grin taking residence on his lips. "Bunch o' classroom suckers."

And then, so suddenly and fast, Scourge flew off his feet -tripping on a damned tree root- and was sent face-first into the flowerbed of Sonic the Hedgehog's front yard. Scourge was aware of three things. There was a sudden pain in his face, chest and foot (the darn foot that got caught in a tree root). The second thing was the tangent of swear words flying from his lips and the third was someone overshadowing him, talking to him . . .

"Watch your mouth, young man." It was a woman's voice and she sounded both annoyed and amused in his ears. There was definitely a smile in her voice as she teased, "rather a graceful one, aren't you?"

"Shut your freaking mouth!" Scourge snapped at the middle-aged woman, face snapping up from the dirt to glare at her.

She arched dubious eyebrows at him and put her small fists on slender hips. "Well now, I can see the level of politeness you hold yourself to when speaking to a lady."

"Lady, do you even know who I am?" He demanded, and pointed to his forehead . . . And then he remembered he wasn't wearing his crown today. Why wasn't he? He was increasingly irritated with this woman that, by her looks, was the clone of his mother. Bernadette Hedgehog.

"Should I now?" She asked back, and her amused smile and twinkling eyes made Scourge think she was_ trying _to piss him off.

Scourge pushed himself off the ground and jumped to his feet, "yeah, ya should! I'm - !" But there was a cracking in his ankle, a searing pain in his chest, that he hadn't anticipated. "Goddamn - ouch!" He winced at the pain and leaned against the wall of the house, off his busted ankle.

"Hmm . . ." Scourge looked down at where the sound came from and saw that Bernadette was bent over, examining his ankle as best she could while he was shoe-clad. Her fingers lightly pressed against it and he ignored the pain. "You probably just bruised it." She beamed up at him. "Nothing to worry about, sweetheart."

"Don't you call me 'sweetheart.'" Scourge glared down hard at the woman with a clone of his mother's face. It was just creepy to see that face, that body, being so genuinely kind to him.

She shrugged nonchalantly as if didn't matter what she had said and he shook with rage for a second. She turned away from him and dropped to her knees on the ground, he leaned slightly to look over her shoulder and saw that she was collecting her gardening equipment.

"Would you like to come inside and get a cold drink, sweetheart?" She asked with such a sincere motherly kindness it made Scourge want to pull his hair out.

He subdued the growl in his throat and just reprimanded her word choice in a low threat, "I _said_ don't call me 'sweetheart.'"

She nodded to acknowledge this and looked at him with a blank expression as she set the gardening tool basket on the ledge of a window on her lovely home. She smiled a small smile as she explained to him, "I'm sorry. I'm just dreadfully used to that term of endearment. But, I'll try not to call you . . .it."

She was striding toward him then and she extended both hands to him.

"Here, I'm sure you need a hand walking." She smiled so sweetly at him that he wanted to slap the sugary kindness out of her. Or maybe he just wanted to scream in annoyance because it was driving him so crazy to see someone who looked just like his mother act so out of character.

Scourge made a face at her, one saying, 'come on, get real. Do you know who I am?'

"You must not recognize me at all . . ." Scourge bowed his head and shook it slowly back in forth in bewilderment. He couldn't believe it. Sonic's father recognized him in an instant - why was his mother so slow on the uptake?

"What?" Bernadette asked and laughed at the disbelieving grimace Scourge wore. She laughed again and then took his arm into her small hands. "You do want something to drink, don't you? It'll help you feel better," a finger pointed to his ankle. "And I'm sure you need some ice for that."

"Fine!" Scourge snapped at her and sarcastically threw an arm over her narrow shoulders. "Go ahead and kidnap me, do away with me in your home, why don't you? Obviously, you don't know who I am."

She laughed and looked at him with knowing sky blue eyes, "should I know?"

"Yeah, ya should." Scourge lightly glared at her, more out of annoyance than anything. He added then, as an afterthought, "if you know what's good for you."

He couldn't believe this setup.

Scourge sat on the edge of the bathtub in his number-one enemy's house, barefoot and with a glass of lemonade in hand.

At the sink in this small but warmly decorated bathroom, Bernadette was rinsing off a white terry cloth. She was wringing it out and looking it over. She reached for a small bottle reading "peroxide." Great. That should sting enough.

He touched the scrapes on his face and knew he had ones to match on his chest.

He looked at his ankle that was bandaged in such a way to bring the swelling down. He finally put the two Tylenol in his hand into his mouth, he took a large gulp of his lemonade and swallowed hard - not caring that it hurt his throat.

Looking up he could see that Bernadette was now gathering a few bandages, looking completely content in her work.

Scourge dropped his eyes to stare at his idling feet. Why was she being so nice to him? Did she really not recognize him?

He shook his head, she must not have.

"Alright, now just based off your little rant earlier," Bernadette teased as she turned to him with ready hands and plenty of items to patch him up with. "This should make you swear quite a bit - it stings a bit, sweetheart."

Bernadette couldn't really help but chuckle at the murderous glare she received. "Oops, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you . . . the S-word."

"Oh, ha, ha." Scourge narrowed his eyes and smiled sarcastically. "Don't mock me, lady."

"Oh, never. I would never even think about doing that." The older woman teased as she pushed aside the jacket covering his chest.

"What is with you?" He pulled away slightly and her hand hovered inches away from his skin. She looked into his eyes with wide, surprised ones. He glared at her. "Don't you, at all, think it's a bit personal for me to let you touch me and bandage me up?" He demanded. "Well?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just . . ." Bernie's eyebrows knit together, trying to figure out what she did wrong. She was just so used to being a mother. Did she offend him by treating him like she'd treat just about any injured kid in her yard? Then again, he did seem to hate being referred to by her terms of endearment. "I'm just used to acting this way. It's who I am?" She looked into his eyes with a questioning expression overtaking her face. "Does it offend you?"

"Hell yeah it does," Scourge growled back, hands clenching into fists at his sides, staying on the bathtub ledge so she couldn't see them. "It's weak to have someone help ya out."

"Is that what you think?" Bernie arched one brow at him, all amusement gone from her face.

"Don't mock me!" He screamed, shaking his head and inching his face ever so slightly closer to hers.

She pulled away from him and asked with skepticism glowing in her slightly annoyed eyes, "and how is it weak to have someone help you when you're hurt?"

"'Cause they'll just use it against you later," he informed her as if it were obvious, even going so far as rolling his eyes. His shoulders tensed. "And, 'sides, don't you know who I am?"

"Yes." She answered curtly, looking irritated with him. Looking at his overtly angry form she stared straight into his eyes when she told him who he was, "you're Scourge. You and your little 'Suppression Squad' took over the Freedom HQ."

Now she looked like she was mad at him. There. Scourge leaned away from her. That was more like it. She should hate him just like everyone else did.

"Yeah, I am." He smirked devilishly, looking proud of himself.

And then his smile dropped and his shoulders slumped, disbelief and maybe a little disappointment showed on his face with her simple, uncaring word.

"So?" She asked.

"Okay . . . what?" He gasped out, gaping at her. He was just way too confused right now.

"So what?" She asked, shrugging. She gripped tightly to his jacket lapel and pulled him closer to herself, she took the terry cloth into hand and pushed away the jacket. "Why do I care about that?"

Questioning danced in her eyes and he felt burned by her gaze. Was she insulting him? Or simply trying to show she was unfazed?

"Lady . . ." he closed his eyes and bowed his shaking head. He looked up at her and there was a tired annoyance in his icy eyes. "Hello, I'm Scourge the Hedgehog? I took over your son's clubhouse? Kinda beat up your kid for fun . . ."

H waved his hands idly at her, looking confused and tired beyond words. "Any of this ringing any bells?"

She nodded. "I know about everything you do, young man."

His shoulders slumped and Scourge's eyebrows crushed his eyes and he looked pitifully sad with his bewilderment.

"Are you messing with me, lady?" Scourge rubbed his temples with his index fingers and thumbs. Like trying to massage his brain.

"You, Scourge, can call me 'Ma'am' or 'Miss' but not 'Lady.' Understand?" She seemed cold and frigid - ha, more like his mother, after all - as she spun the terry cloth in circular motions over his wounds. "I only go by polite terms."

"'Lady' is a polite term." Scourge argued without any real fire to his words.

She gave a sarcastic laugh and said with a teasing smile but annoyed eyes, "not the way you say it, it isn't."

Scourge sighed, "yes, ma'am."

Feeling her gaze boring into him, the evergreen hedgehog boy looked at Bernie's curious face. She seemed truly surprised.

"What?" Scourge demanded, irritated.

"I'm just . . ." she shook her head and broke eye contact. "I'm honestly surprised you listened to me."

"Well, I was afraid you'd scrub harder if I didn't." Scourge teased, smirking finally.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Bernie laughed and removed the cloth from his chest. "Oh no, never."

Sonic's mother stopped smiling as she looked into Scourge's uncomfortable eyes. There was something bothering him and he looked truly troubled by it. However, Bernie had a feeling he'd never tell her.

He looked so troubled, so disturbed - like his eyes were filled with just so much pain. And then there was the overwhelming confusion that kept flashing in his eyes each time she said or did anything kind to him. What, was kindness really such a foreign idea to him?

Bernadette Hedgehog remembered then what her own baby boy had told her. 'Scourge' and his team had all come from an Anti-Mobius. On that planet, or dimension, everything was a total opposite of her own world. His mother must be so, so cruel to him. She bit her lip to keep the tears back as she wondered how alone, how hated this poor boy must feel.

Looking into Scourge's eyes again she could see them glistening. She felt a pang of pain in her own heart looking into those painful eyes. She watched him through her bangs as he dropped his sunglasses over his eyes. She wondered . . . did he do that every time he wanted to cry?

She looked away from him, knowing that he wouldn't even have noticed her watching him. She moved to begin working on his face when she sighed. It was a terribly sad sounding sigh.

"What's wrong?"

Truly taken aback by the question, Bernie flinched. Surprised that someone that was supposed to be as cruel and rude as Scourge would ask such a question.

"Nothing . . ." she whispered and bit her lip again. Refusing to meet his eyes, she added, "just thinking about every little boy or girl without anyone to love them."

A throat was cleared audibly and Bernie's gaze flashed up to see Scourge's eyes. Through the glass of his shades she could see how teary he was becoming.

"And I wonder what those children might grow up to be," Bernie whispered. "And who wouldn't want to love them."

"Do you think if those kids had someone to . . . love them . . . Do you think then maybe they wouldn't grow up to be bad people?" Scourge asked and Bernie became confused at the question, trying to sort how carefully she could answer it.

"Well," Bernie tried to begin, tried to untie her tongue and keep her tears back. "I don't think anyone's ever really, truly bad."

"Oh, really, what about Robotnik?" Scourge retorted sarcastically.

Bernie had to laugh lightly, it didn't keep the tears from her eyes. "Well, most people aren't completely bad then."

"Oh really?" Scourge asked.

"Yes. Really." Bernie replied, blotting the terry cloth with new peroxide. "Careful, sweetheart, this will sting."

She lifted the cloth to his face and paused midair.

"Whoops." She tried to laugh but it came out choked. "I called you 'sweetheart' again."

"Aw, it doesn't matter," Scourge sounded tired. He was a little choked on his next sentence, though. "Call me sweetheart if that's what helps ya sleep at night."

She shook her head and smiled. "You are a rude one, aren't you?"

"Always have been, Mama." He smirked smugly, seeming quite pleased with himself. And then, his whole face fell. "I mean . . ."

"What did you call me?" Bernie croaked, throat struck completely dry and eyes gone wide with shock.

"Nothing." He growled, turning his head away. Bernie now stared at his profile and could see that he was blushing furiously, his face was so red it looked hot.

Trying to soothe, to comfort, Bernie said, " . .. No, it's okay . . ."

"I didn't say anything!" Scourge yelled, cutting her off. His face became redder as he cut in, chiding,"You're hearing things."

Seeing the strong glare as it mixed with the humiliation on his face crushed Bernie. The sympathy she had for this child was overwhelming. But, he wanted her to forget what he had said and for his sake she'd ignore it. She wasn't even paying attention to her words when she spoke.

"It'll sting when I clean your face out," she reminded him again as she pressed the terry cloth softly to his cheek. "Okay, sweetheart?"

He flinched at her word choice and she mentally slapped herself.

"Okay?" Her trembling voice tried to correct itself.

"Yeah," he sighed out the word. "Whatever."

Her vision blurred in front of her as the tears overtook her world. She began to slowly and gently scrub the cloth over his face and felt so many different things and so many different questions raced through her mind.

She felt so much sympathy and that made her want to ask him; what's wrong?

She noticed that not only blood was bleeding into the cloth but so were tears. She knew by the way he pursed his lips and glared into the wall that he was not happy he was crying.

She felt so confused at him and that made her want to ask; why did you call me Mama?

"Oh," she sighed as she leaned into him. She let the little cloth drop to her leg as she wrapped her arms around this little boy without anyone to love him. His chin rest on her shoulder and she embraced him tightly. He didn't respond but she heard him sniffle, she could have sworn.

There was such an overwhelming sadness in her tears and it made her want to ask; why do you do the things you do?

She hugged him a little tighter and whispered, "don't cry, sweetheart."

"How can I help it?" He retorted, not sounding like he minded the term of endearment anymore. "You were right. That peroxide crap . . . it stings like freaking hell."

Bernie broke out into a laugh at that.

She felt so much sympathy and one question ran through her mind then . . .

Bernie tousled his hair and laughed out, "you're a rude little bugger, aren't you?"

_Did she have time for another son? _

**The End **

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A/N: Hello, and thank you for reading the third fan fiction I have ever written on my shiny new account, but the fifth one I've posted.. Just as my two former fan fictions (starring Scourge) preceding this story, it is about Scourge and the feelings he must have on this crazy little thing we all like to call "Life."

In all actuality, and I'm sorry for admitting this considering how it could be misconstrued, but I do not have much to say about this story. It was written during a Math Lesson I paid no heed and I wrote this simply because I had a dream about it.

About Scourge interacting with Sonic's mother and her feeling sorry for him, and his misfortunate upbringing and Scourge calling Bernie his mother. The scene in the bathroom is my dream, whilst all before it was written sort of to explain how they got there.

It's one of my more favored dreams, actually. The reason there is no musical quote is because there is no song I used quite as a mood-setter. Hmm . . . Perhaps, "if A intersects with B then what is the answer to this equation?"

Like I said, Math Lesson.

The answer my friend Cooro gave to the equation was "a baby." That's her idea of what happens when and if "A intersects with B." Just think about that.

One plus one equals three.

Yours sincerely and done with her Scourge-kick,

Sweet Valentine Vampire

P.S. - Scourge is EVER SO SLIGHTLY out-of-character. Forgive me? =3


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